A Study In Purple
by Janie Oaks
Summary: Dr. John Watson and Sherlock Homes had decided to do a flat share even before knowing each other. What they didn't bargain for was that they would also be sharing it with Jabez, a high strong, American woman. Not only that, but she is the only one to ever let Sherlock go speechless. The three are sucked into an adventure they will never forget, if they can remember to stay civil.
1. Chapter 1

" ?" Jabez called out, dragging her luggage up the stairs.

"Coming dear!" Mrs. Hudson said, and helped her toss the suitcase on the bed. Jabez looked around the flat, and noticed a very messing living space. "One man, incredibly unorganized, smokes, and must be out and about a lot." She retorted, and Mrs. Hudson clapped her hands. "I must deal with one of you, and now there's two!" She pretended to faint, and Jabez smiled walking over putting a hand on her shoulder.

"Thank the world for woman like you. I'm sure you can handle me, and what's a few roommates?" Jabez says, hoping She didn't put her off with my American slang. "I highly doubt they are as articulate as me."

"Then you mustn't have heard of Sherlock Holmes." Mrs. Hudson laughed, "You two should get along like two peas in a pod. I'll leave you to sit down and get settled. Would you like me to put on the kettle?"

"No, I'll just get some water from the sink."

Mrs. Hudson wondered out, answering the doorbell ring. Jabez sat down, closing her deep purple eyes, and she heard foot steps. One man was walking with a cane even. She opened her eyes to see a tall man with high cheekbones and a pale face. The man next to him was most likely army, judging from how he stood. Jabez rose, and looked the tall man up and down. She was only an inch shorter than him, and had an extra 5 pounds. She turned to the army man. "Afghanistan no doubt." She said, waving her hand, and turning herself away from the group.

"Excuse me, Sherlock-" the man began, but Jabez cut him off.

"Judging from both your faces I can say the taller of you two had asked the question before." She said, turning back around, and revealing a cocky grin with her curly brown hair framing her face.

"Jesus, I thought there was one," the army man said, "and now we have two, and ones American!"

Jabez sat back down in her chair, her acute hearing on for any abnormal noises down the street.

"So Mr. Sherlock Holmes. I've been waiting to make your acquaintance," Jabez smiled, "I notice that your work is vigorous, well, that is only when you want them to be."

Sherlock was about to speak, when the army man sat down and said, "I looked you up on the internet last night Sherlock." He looked pointedly at Jabez. "If I had known there was to be another one, I would have looked you up as well."

"What did you find?" Sherlock said.

"Your blog." The man said and gave Sherlock a look of disappointment, "you said you could clarify 243 types of tobacco."

Jabez scoffed, only 243 Mr. Holmes?" She shook her head, "I've heard such high praise for you, and in the end, only 243?"

Sherlock decided to ignore the woman, and faced John. "Yes. I can also tell software designer from his tie and a-"

He was about to continue, when Mrs. Hudson interrupted, "How about them suicides Sherlock? Jabez? They seem to be right up your two's street. 3 exactly the same."

Jabez heard sirens off in the distance. "There's been a fourth" she interrupted. "and this tine somethings different." Jabez drifted into her own world of murderer and crime, only to be brought back by the slamming of the door.

"Did they leave a note?" Jabez asked and snapped at herself, "of course there's one."

The DI froze and looked at her. "who are you?"

"Jabez Moriarty." she said. "Yes, American, and yes again completely psychotic. Now I notice that now a note was left. Care if I come?"

The DI stammered, "Not-not at all."

"Who's on forensics?" Sherlock asked, pushing Jabez to the side.

"Anderson."

Sherlock groaned in disapproval. "I don't work well with him."

"He's not your assistant."

"I need an assistant."

The detective pointed to Jabez. "what about that lass?"

"No, someone who isn't boring."

Jabez rolled her eyes, but allowed the DI to leave. Once the DI left, Sherlock jumped in the air. "Brilliant! Yes! Four serial suicides and now a note. Oh, it's Christmas! Mrs Hudson, I'll be late. Might need some food." He rushed out, and Mrs. Hudson called "I'm not your housekeeper."

Jabez turned to John. "What's your name?"

"John."

She nodded, and turn to watch outside the window as Sherlock debated on coming back inside or not. After John blamed his leg, Sherlock finally decided to come in, and Jabez turned to face Sherlock with a defying look. "I see you want John along?"

"I wouldn't mind it if you came along too." he said, his voice pinched. He turned to John. "Army doctor, out in the field a lot, correct?" John nodded. "so you've seen dead bodies?" Sherlock said.

"More than one should in a lifetime."

They were standing so close down Jabez felt like saying, "oh just kiss already."

Sherlock mouth curved into a smile. "Would you like to see more?"

John smiled as well. "Oh god, yes!" John and Sherlock ran to The door. "sorry Mrs. Hudson. I'll skip the tea." John said

"You're going out?" Mrs Hudson turned to Jabez, "Are you staying?"

"Oh god no." Jabez said, patting her hand. "4 murders and a note? How does one pass up a chance like that?" Jabez ran to catch up with the two boys and they slid in their seats, taking off into the evening.

* * *

The majority of the ride was silent. Finally Sherlock said. "Okay, you have questions."

"Yes," John said, almost second guessing himself. "Where are we going?"

"Crime scene. Next?"

Jabez leaned her head against the window. She knew that she didn't belong, no matter how hard she tried. She was an American, a very psychotic American at that. She was itching to call her brother and see if she could stay with him instead, but she knew that would be stooping down to him, and she wouldn't dare.

Jabez tuned back in to reality right as John said, "That, was, amazing."

Jabez wished whenever she made deductions, people would compliment her. But sadly, she'd been in more than one situation at which she ended up had to run from the authorities, for 'knowing too much'.

"You think so?" Sherlock looked genuinely surprised.

"It was extraordinary. Truly extraordinary."

"That's not what most people say."

"Well what do they say?"

Jabez mumbled along with Sherlock, "Piss off."

The two boys turned to look at Jabez. "What?"

"Piss off." jabez said, turning to John and Sherlock. "I would know. I worked with the NYPD for almost 5 years now, and that phrase is no stranger to me."

Sherlock looked down, and finally inquired. "What's your name?"

"I'm Jabez Moriarty. I highly doubt u have heard of me. I'm more of the talk of the town back in the states."

Sherlock was busy with his phone and John asked. "Why did you move here if you're from the states?"

"Serial killings." She said. John looked at her confused and she responded. "Apparently I'm the number one target for a man's killing spree. I've almost died 5 times so the Captain back there said it would be best to move out of the country for a while. I came here, wanted to stay with my brother, but we had had a falling out when I decided to help out with the force, and I hadn't spoken to him since. So I now reside at 221b."

Sherlock gave a cry of amusement. "Ahhh, here's some articles! 'Jabez Moriarty reveals who's behind the notorious killings' 'Moriarty catcher killer, saved half million dollar bracelet.' oh and my new favorite-"

She knew exactly which article he was talking about, "Don't. Stop it."

Sherlock was on a roll now, nothing could stop him. "'Jabez Moriarty, 24, dies from a tragic accident off a cliff.'"

The two men look at jabez, and her eyes burned with fire. "YES I had to fake my death! It was that serious!" she crossed her arms and slumped back. "I can't wait to arrive at the crime scene."


	2. Chapter 2

**None of these characters are mine except for Jabez Moriarty. Everything else comes from the mind of Sir Arther Conan Doyle, Moffat, and Gatiss. Enjoy!**

* * *

Sherlock put away his phone. "I was not meaning to taunt you. Did you have any friends back in the states?"

"I'm a psychopath! Would it seem as if I had any friend?" Jabez sighed, "Yes, I had one. She was part of the NYPD- a wonderful detective. If she was ever working on a case, she'd let me help. But sadly, no one but the Captain knew I was faking my death, so I had to leave her behind. There's not a day that goes by that I want to pick up a phone and dial her number."

Sherlock nodded. "I understand. Detective work is the most dangerous of it's kind. But it does pay off." They had arrived at the scene, and the three got out to meet with a woman with her Arms crossed.

"Hello Freak. Why are you here?"

"Because we were invited."

"Why?"

"I think Lestrade wants us to take a look."

"Well you know what I think?"

Jabez was getting pissed with this woman. "And what do you think? You know what? Don't answer that. I bet you had fun last night. See you didn't make it home."

The woman narrowed her eyes. "Who are these two?"

Sherlock smirked. "this is Jabez Moriarty. And this is Dr. Watson. Both are my colleagues." He turned to the two of them. "This is Sargent Sally Donavon." he paused, and after a moment, he said, "A friend."

Jabez scoffed but said nothing as Donavon said, "A colleague? How do you get yourself a colleague? Did they follow you home or something?"

Jabez stepped forward. "More of they followed me " She smiled slyly.

"Why is an American working with you? Is she even a citizen?"

"She's been residing her for more than a year, of course she's a citizen." Sherlock eyed her, "She went and got her citizenship just last month."

Jabez nodded and rolled her eyes. _Show off_. She stepped over the tape, ignoring the protests by Donavon. Sherlock and John just followed, running into who looked like the most annoying person on the planet. And that was saying much, because back in New York the forensics leader was quite unbearable. "Who the hell are you?" The man asked.

"She's with me Anderson." Sherlock stopped in front of the man. "How long has your wife been gone?"

Anderson sneered, and Jabez noticed what Sherlock was referring to his deodorant and Sally's ruffed up knees. "Oh don't pretend you worked that out. Who told you that?"

"Your deodorant." Sherlock said.

"What?"

"It's for men." Jabez countered, looking over at Sherlock. They smiled as if sharing an inside joke.

"Well of course it's for men. I'm wearing it!"

"So is Sargent Donavon." Jabez said, pushing past him. She didn't want to wait for Anderson to throw a hissy fit, but choked back on laughter as she heard Sherlock say, "And I see that Donavon was also scrubbing your floors. Judging by the state of her knees."

The three walked in, and met up with the detective inspector. "Wear one of these?" Sherlock indicated to a set of blue outfits.

"Uh, I'd rather not." jabez said, stepping away from the odd outfits.

"Your not going to put one on?" John asked, but Sherlock ignored him.

"What have we got?" the four walked to a room, and Lestrade said, "I got you two minutes."

Sherlock smirked, "Give me less and and I'd get you the same information." He opened up the door, and Jabez gasped.

Now, she didn't gasp because of the dead body, but because it was wearing the most hideous shade of pink known on earth.

Jabez made a face. "Oh my god, this woman has no taste."

"You are really commenting about the victims taste in clothing?" John asked.

Jabez sighed. "You should know every bit of your victim before u examine their case. For instance, this woman could have been murdered for the horrible shade of pink she's wearing. I know I would have done it."

Sherlock leaned down, examine the body, Jabez following suit. She noticed the ring, "So we have an adulterer," She whispered to Sherlock.

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Everyone shut up."

"_What?_ I didn't say anything!" Lestrade cried.

"But you were thinking." Lestrade sighed, rolling his eyes.

Sherlock turned to Jabez, "Got anything?"

"Nothing much." She said with a twinkle in her eye.

"Me neither." Sherlock smirked.

From behind him, Anderson was leaning on the door frame. In his nasal voice, he said. "Rache. In German that means revenge, she could be trying to tell us something-"

Sherlock got up, and shut the door in Anderson's face looking at his own phone. "Yes, thank you for your input."

The DI looked at Sherlock, confused. "So she's German?"

Jabez scoffed, crossing her arms "Of course she's not! She's from out of town though, intending to stay in London for one night, before returning home to Cardiff, so far, so obvious."

Sherlock clapped slowly. "Very good. Anything else?" he asked sarcastically.

"Why of course Mr. Holmes." Jabez said menacingly. "Victim is in her late 30s. Professional person going by her clothes. I'm guessing the media going by the frankly alarming shade of pink. Traveled from Cardiff today, intending to stay in London for one night. It's so obvious."

"Obvious?" John asked. "Not in the slightest."

"But what about the note?" The inspector said.

Jabez was about to speak when Sherlock walked over to John and guiding him to the body. "What do you think?"

"Of the letter?"

"Of the body Dr. Watson. You are a medical man."

John leaned down, and inspected the body. Jabez walked around them, like a heard dog around her pack of sheep. "What am I doing here?" John asked irritably.

"To help me make a point."

"I thought I was here just to pay the rent."

"But this is more fun!" Jabez said, smirking.

John looked up. "Fun? There's a woman lying dead on the floor!"

"Surely, Doctor, you can be more in depth than that." Sherlock said, looking at John.

"The nerve of you two!" John said going back to inspect the body. "Yeah… Asphyxiation, probably. Passed out, choked on her own vomit. Can't smell any alcohol on her. Could have been a seizure, possibly drugs."

"Notice anything missing?" Sherlock inquired.

"Should I?"

"Come on Sherlock. You've only got two minutes." Lestrade said, and Sherlock jumped up. "The s_uitcase_!" he cried, and Jabez mentally slapped herself for being so stupid.

"How could I have missed that?" she said.

"Suitcase?" Lestrade questioned.

"Yes." Sherlock said irritably. "She's married at least ten years, but not happily. She's had a string of lovers but none of them knew she was married."

"For gods sake; if you're making this up." Lestrade said.

"No one would make something like this up." Jabez said pointedly.

"Her wedding ring. Ten years old at least. The rest of her jewelry's been regularly cleaned, but not her wedding ring. State of her marriage right there. The inside of the ring is shinier than the outside, so it's regularly removed. The only polishing it gets is when she works it off her finger. It's not for work, look at her nails. She doesn't work with her hands. So, what, or rather, who does she remove her rings for? Not one lover, she'd never sustain the fiction of being single for that amount of time, so more likely a string of lovers. Simple." Sherlock said and crossed his arms, looking around for the suitcase.

"Exactly. Simple and obvious." jabez said blandly as John cried, "Brilliant!"

Sherlock turned around and John looked down. "Sorry."

"No don't be." jabez said. "just it _is_ incredibly obvious."

"Obvious?" John asked, shocked.

"What's it like inside your ordinary brains? It must be so boring." Jabez said, and Sherlock smirked. "Her coat- it's slightly damp, she's been in heavy rain for the last few hours- no rain anywhere in London in that time. Under her coat collar is damp, too. She's turned it up against the wind. She's got an umbrella in her left hand pocket, but it's dry and unused. Not just wind, strong wind, too strong to use her umbrella." Jabez took a breath to speak again, but Sherlock was faster.

He picked up on what she said and completed her statement. "We know from her suitcase that she was intending to stay overnight, so she must have come a decent distance but she can't have traveled for more than two or three hours because her coat still hasn't dried. So, where has there been heavy rain and strong wind within the radius of that travel time? Cardiff."

"That's fantastic!" John cried, and Jabez looked over at John. No one ever told her that. She tilted her head to the side, wondering if John was just mocking him. No, he wasn't, and that surprised Jabez more.

"You do realize you speak out loud?" Sherlock said, turning to John with his eyebrow raised.

"Sorry...l" John looked down at his cane, "I'll shut up now."

"No no," Jabez said, "it quite alright."

"It's fine." Sherlock said. "Now we need to find out who this Rachel is. We must find this woman's phone."

"So she was writing Rachel?" Lestrade asked.

"No, she was writing an angry note in German!" Jabez rushed up to Lestrade, looking him up and down, "You did seem much smarter."

Lestrade narrowed his eyes. "But how did you know about the suitcase?"

"Back of the right leg. Tiny splash marks on her right heel and calf not present on the left. She was dragging a wheeled suitcase behind her with her right hand. Don't get that splash pattern any other way. Smallish case, going by the spread. Case that size, woman with these clothes- conscious- could only be an overnight bag, so we know she was only staying one night. Now where is it?" Jabez frantically looked around for the suitcase.

"There wasn't one." Lestrade said, and jabez jumped up.

"Oh than man is clever, but not clever enough." she said, the corners of her mouth quirking up.

"What man?" John said, limping over to Jabez.

"THE SERIAL MURDERER JOHN!" Jabez cried, clapping her hands together. Sherlock turned to face her.

"Serial murders?" Sherlock nodded, "Of course serial murders! Oh and the killers! Always something to look forward too!" He followed jabez out of the room, "Serial killer always hard. Have to wait for them to make a mistake." He ran down the stairs, following closely behind Jabez.

"We can't wait!" Lestrade said.

"Quite correct." Jabez said, "he already has made a mistake."

"What then?" John and Lestrade asked.

Jabez couldn't believe it. Were people this dense now a days? "PINK!" she and Sherlock cried, and ran out of the house, jumping into the first cab they saw. Sherlock turned to face Jabez. "Er...no, I need time to myself."

"I can helped you!" she cried.

Sherlock opened the door and pushed her out. "No. You just helped me prove a point." he shut the door, and the cab drove off.

* * *

**As you can see, I update this fan fiction every Friday, so stay alert!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Another chapter is up, yay! **

**Okay so EmeraldDagger said: ****_good story. but Sherlock is being a big meanie to Jabez._**

**Yes, Sherlock is a big meanie to Jabez, but that is because he doesn't really know how to act around a person who could possibly be smarter than he is, so he asserts his authority around her, trying to show her who's boss. As you can see, it just makes him a rude person, and doesn't really show Jabez anything. I know where their relationship will go, so don't worry, Sherlock will realize it's no use trying to up her, and he'll just except it. **

**Thank you for the two new followers, Ec629 and Scottish Bluebell thanks guys!**

**Keep reviewing and I hope you like the next chapter!**

* * *

Sally came up behind Jabez. "Piece of work he is." Sally said.

Jabez spun around, blowing her brown hair out of her eyes. "Pieces of works are the best works to find."

John came running out, and Sally turned to face him after giving Jabez a look. "He already left."

John sighed. "Kicked you out of the cab did he?"

Jabez nodded, her jaw set. "Twat that man is, but he's brilliant."

Sally came up to us. "You're not Sherlock's friends. He doesn't have friends. Who are you?"

"I'm PI and the help in NYPD, and I do much of the same work as he does, but I just met him."

"I just met him as well," said John. "but-but I'm nothing."

Sally crossed her arms, "Well stay away from him."

Jabez rolled her eyes. "And why is that? Just because he's sociopathic, doesn't make him psychopathic."

Sally sighed. "Do you know why he's here? He's not paid or anything. He likes it. He gets off on it! The weirder the crime, the more he gets off- and you know what? One day just showing up won't be enough. One day we'll be standing around a body and Sherlock Holmes'll be the one who put it there."

Jabez started to walk away, dragging John along. "Yes, this type of work is fun. I did the same thing back in the states. I was never payed. Ever thought all this is how one such like myself and Sherlock stay sane?"

John shook his head. "Both of you are crazy."

"Dully noted."Jabez said, and let go of John. "taxi!" they both cried, but no taxi would take them. After a few moments of silence, a sharp ring from a telephone box rang right next to the two of them. Jabez only hesitated for moment, but continued to walk with John.

Once they walked by the third phone box with the phone ringing, they decided it was time to pick it up.

They both crammed into the phone booth, John picked up the phone, and then turned to a camera to their right, and their left. Jabez followed his gaze, "What the hell?" she mumbled as a black car pulled up.

"He wants us to get in." John said, and pushed Jabez out of the booth. John got in the back, and Jabez decided for the front. A nice enough looking man was at the wheel. "Ummm, where are we going?" she asked, irritated that she didn't know.

"Somewhere private." the man said, not even looking at her.

"Uh, what's your name?" John asked the woman he was sitting next to.

"Anthea."

"Is that your real name?"

"No." the car pulled into an abandoned warehouse, and the man looked Jabez up and down. "Time to get out." he said.

Jabez did as she was told, and then helped John get out of the car.

From behind them, they heard some footsteps. "I do hope you don't ruin your umbrella too much from the way you are dragging it on the ground." Jabez said as she turned around.

"Please, both of you do sit down." he turned to Jabez, "I see my resources are correct. You are good."

"You know, I've got a phone." John said, leaning on his cane. "I mean, very clever and all that, but, er… you could just phone me. On my phone."

The man ignored John. "Please do sit. Your leg must hurting you. And Jabez, you must be a bit tired from running about. It's been a long time since you've done work like that?"

"Yes, and I'm fine." Jabez hissed.

"I'd rather stand." John followed, not backing down.

"You two don't seem afraid." the man said, leaning on his umbrella.

"You don't seem very frightening." John said.

"And I know who you are." Jabez said, and put a finger to her lips as John looked at her expectantly. "All in good time Watson."

"Your bravery does you no good." the man said. "What is your connection with Sherlock Holmes?" he looked at Jabez.

"I've just met him today."

"And you?" he looked at John.

"Yesterday."

"Mmm, and since yesterday you've moved in with him and now you're solving crimes together. Might we expect a happy announcement by the end of the week?" Jabez chuckled, but stopped short as the man looked at her. "And you've met him today? Now you solve crimes with him as well. I see you easily hand out your trust Jabez. Naughty girl."

Jabez crossed her arms. "My trust is to be earned, not given out like treat baskets at the end of a birthday party."

"I see." the man said, "But yet you three all live together."

"Yes and who wants to know?" John asked, and Jabez put a hand on his shoulder, shaking her head slightly.

"An interested party."

"So you? Who are you to Sherlock Holmes anyway?" John asked, shrugging off Jabez's hand.

"An enemy."

"Enemy?" John asked, his eyebrows going up.

"Oh please." Jabez sighed.

"He calls me his arch-enemy. He does love being dramatic."

"I can see that." Jabez said, shaking her head, and chuckling.

"Well thank god your above all that." John said, and the man frowned.

Suddenly, both John's and Jabez's phones rang. Jabez took out her phone and saw it was from Sherlock Holmes. "John did you give him my number?"

John shook his head. "I don't even know your number."

Jabez looked at her text.

_if convenient, come home at once._

_SH_

_bastard, how'd you get my phone number? _

_xJMx_

She texted back and put the phone back in my pocket.

"I hope I'm not distracting you." the man said, dangerously calm.

"Not at all." Jabez said through her teeth. John raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

"Do you to plan to continue with your association with Sherlock?"

"I do believe it's none of your business." John said.

Jabez sighed. "This man is no threat." she turned to the man. "I have every expectation to."

"If you do move into, um… …221B Baker Street, I'd be happy to pay you a meaningful sum of money on a regular basis to ease your way." he said to Jabez and John.

"Why?" they both asked.

"Because you are living from paycheck to paycheck, Jabez, and you are not a wealthy man John."

"What do you want from us?" Jabez raised and eyebrow, crossing her arms.

"Information. Nothing big. Just tell me what he's up to."

"Why can't you just figure that out yourself?" Jabez asked, "You have the tools."

The man scowled. "I try to, but he won't allow it."

"Damn right he won't." John mumbled. "Why exactly should we do that?"

"Because I worry about him. Constantly."

"How adorable." Jabez pretended to gag.

There was another text alert, and Jabez checked her phone.

_did you know Mrs. Hudson really does love those baked cookies down I the shop?_

_SH_

_you didn't!_

_xJMx_

John showed her his text.

_if inconvenient come all the same._

_SH_

"Are you two done?" the man tapped his foot, annoyed.

"For now." Jabez said, smirking.

"So will you do it?"

"No," John and Jabez said at the same time.

"I haven't even mentioned a figure!"

"You don't have to." Jabez said, her purple eyes gleaming.

"You two are very loyal very quickly."

"That is where you are wrong. I am in fact saying no because I see it annoys you. Not knowing what Sherlock Holmes is up to. I love seeing people suffer."

"And I'm just not interested." John said smugly.

The man turned around and picked up a folder. "It says here trust issues."

"Excuse you?" John blinked, straightening.

"You choose Sherlock Holmes out of everyone to trust. Out on the streets you see buildings and shops. With Sherlock Holmes you see battlefields. I notice that you've already experienced that."

John's face paled, and he stayed silent. "Show me your hand." the man said, reaching for John's hand.

John pulled away. "Don't." The man simply reached again, and examined John's hand.

"Remarkable."

"What?" John asked.

"You have an intermittent tremor in your left hand. Your therapist thinks it's post-traumatic stress disorder. She thinks you're haunted by memories of your military service."

"Who the hell are you?" John pulled his hand away. "How do you know that?"

"Resources." the man said, smiling. "I suggest you fire that woman. You're under stress right now and your hand is perfectly steady. You're not haunted by the war, Dr. Watson… you miss it. Welcome back. Time to choose a side."

Their phones rang again, but neither of them bothered to answer it. Instead, Jabez got up in the man's face. "Sir, I suggest you stop scaring my friend before your body ends up at the bottom of a ditch."

The man took a few steps back from Jabez, and picked up another folder as John put his phone back in his pocket. "Psychopathic I see." The man said.

"Only my high school files have that!" Jabez's guard went up. "I hid that far enough in my past to make sure no one found it."

"Well it wasn't hidden well enough." The man flipped through the pages. "Many assaults, armed robbery, 3 attempted murders, at least a dozen conspiracies. My you have red on your ledger."

"I see you only read until I was 21."

"Oh no there's more." the man said menacingly. "You took some medicines, and solved crimes in the states." he tilted his head, "How long have you been off it?"

Jabez shook her head, glaring. "I think we're done here." she started to walk to the car, but John stopped her. They looked each other in the eyes for a few moments, and Jabez sighed. "3 years. It affected my case work." she said without turning to face the man.

"I see. Well if you want-"

Jabez turned around, her face on fire. "The final answer is no, no matter what." She stared to walk to the car again, John following closely behind.

"Fine then. But I do have information about your brother." she froze, and John did as well.

"No John, it's fine." Jabez swatted at Johns coat. "go on ahead. I'll catch up."

"You sure?"

Jabez stared at him. "Go."

John nodded, and got in the car. Jabez hoped she hadn't scared him too much.

Once the car was gone, Jabez plopped down on a chair. "Tell me everything you've got."

"James Weston Moriarty. He's 32, correct?"

"Quite possibly." Jabez narrowed her eyes. "Did he get into trouble?"

"No. I just want you to be on the look out for him too."

"First you want me to spy on my roommate. I say no. WHY THE HELL WOULD I SPY ON MY OWN BROTHER?" she stormed away, making it to the door.

"He's killed people Jabez. Actual people."

"Do you have any proof?"

"Not yet, but-"

"Good day Mr. Holmes." she said, swinging the door open, and walking out.

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**We all know who the man is, don't we! Continue to review and follow and favorite, and stay tuned next week!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Another chapter is up, yay!**

**So a little clarification. Jabez came to my mind when I started to think of Fem!lock. I then thought, why not make a girl who is American, but is as smart as Sherlock, to level him? Thus, Jabez was born! She is an OC, and completely a figment of my imagination... or is she?**

**Thank you TheAngelGirl357 for following me! Really appreciate it!**

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Jabez ran as fast as she could until she reached a crowed block, and her phone rang again.

She sighed, reading the messages on her phone.

_Oh but I did Miss Moriarty._

_SH _

_Where the bloody hell are you? John showed up and he says you'd catch up._

_SH_

She texted back.

_I'm a block away from the apartment Mr. Holmes. I can literally see the building._

_xJMx_

She sent it, and ran to the door knocking on it. Sherlock swung the door open. "I thought all you needed me for was to prove a point." Jabez said.

"I just needed you out of my hair." Sherlock ushered her inside, and tossed her John's phone. "John just went to use the loo, so we don't have long. Put in this number." he showed Jabez a card, and she typed them in as fast as she could. "These words, exactly. 'What happened at Lauriston Gardens? I must have blacked out. 22 Northumberland Street, please come.'"

"I'm judging that's to the killer of the pink lady about her suitcase?" Jabez asked, sending it.

John came out. "Wait, are you texting a killer? On my phone?"

"Yes." Sherlock said, laying down and closing his eyes.

Jabez looked around. "God, I'm in dire need for a cigarette."

"Bookcase to the left." Sherlock said with out opening his eyes and Jabez went over to look for it. "What about the man you met up with tonight?"

Jabez took a cigarette from the container and lit it. "Good deduction Holmes." she took in a deep breath of nicotine and sighed, content.

"He's a friend of yours." John said, sitting down.

"Friend?" Sherlock opened his eyes, and turned to face John.

"Says you call him your arch enemy."

"Oh him." Sherlock said, and Jabez took another puff, smiling with content. All she needed was a shot or two of heroin and she was good to go. Likely, she brought some, so she didn't have to ask.

"Did he ask you to spy on me?"

"Yes." John said. "but I said no."

Sherlock looked at Jabez who was lost in thought. "and you Miss Moriarty?"

"Sorry, what?" Jabez blinked. " Oh! I said no just to piss him off. I would have excepted it, had he not been a big pain in the ass."

Sherlock smiled. "I had a feeling you would have done that." he closed his eyes. "pity though. We could have split the money."

Jabez sighed. "Oh well. One less 10000 pound check I get to look forward to."

John sat forward, "Sorry, am I missing something?"

"Nothing at all John. Nothing at all." Jabez said, going back to her cigarette. She was almost done with the first one, and was craving for another.

"Has the killer replied?" Sherlock asked, and turned to John, sitting up. "I am not the killer by the way." he said to John.

John shrugged. "I never thought you were."

"Why not? Given the text I just had you send and the fact that I have her case, it's a perfectly logical assumption."

"Do people usually think you are the killer?" John asked.

Sherlock sat up and clasped his hands together, "Yes, sometimes." There was some awkward silence but then Jabez's phone started to ring. The three all looked at her pants pocket.

"You should answer it. It is the government calling after all." Sherlock smiled, and Jabez laughed, smoke surrounding her.

She walked out of the room, and up to her own. She turned on her phone. "May I help you?"

"Do you want proof?" the elder Mr. Holmes said.

"umm... Yes!" Jabez said, trying to control her anger.

"Meet me at the Waterloo at 20:15." He hung up and Jabez sighed, throwing her used cigarette out the window.

John and Sherlock were talking, but as She came in, they quieted down and looked over at her.

"What? He was just asking me if I would think about his offer again. I still said no." Jabez said ,shrugging. Being the psychopath she was, she was wonderful at lying. Even the great Sherlock Holmes wasn't able to see through it. "So has the murder answered-" Jabez froze in her tracks and stared at the suit case on the table. "While we were gone, have you taken up a hobby in dumpster diving?"

Before Sherlock could answer, the phone rang.

"brilliant!" Jabez cried.

"Far from it!" John said. "a KILLER is call my phone at the moment. Why?!"

"A few hours after the last victim, and now he receives a text that can only be from her. If somebody had just found that phone, they'd ignore a text like that. But the murderer… would panic." Sherlock said simply as if reciting a poem.

"Shouldn't we tell the police?"

Jabez put her hands on her hips. "Four murders and a note. Do we have time for the police?" Jabez went to grab her coat from the rack, the red leather shining.

"Then why is he talking to me?"

"Because," Sherlock put on his own coat, and flipped up his collar, "My skull was taken." He looked at John. "um, Jabez and I will be out for a bit. If you want... You can watch some telly."

"Can't I come with you?"

Sherlock nodded, the corners of his mouth quirking into a small grin."I like company when I go out and, uh, I think better when I talk aloud. The skull just attracts attention, so.." He saw John's change in expression. "Problem?"

"Sargent Donavan."

"Really John? You actually letting her play the upper hand?" Jabez sighed, shaking her head.

"What about her?"

"She says you enjoy this type of stuff. Chasing killers and all that."

"And I said this would be dangerous, and yet here you are." Sherlock swung the door open walking outside.

"You just slid into that one." Jabez said.

"Damnit!" john said, walking out, but not before he hit Jabez in the leg with his cane. "Where are we going?" John asked and the three walked down the streets.

"Northumberland Street, of course." Sherlock walked down the streets with his head down.

"The killer wouldn't be stupid enough to go there."

Jabez's lips curled into an evil grin. "You're right. He would be _brilliant_ enough to go there. I always do love the brilliant ones. Always so desperate to be caught."

"You sound like you speak from experience."

"Why else do you think I'm here? The most notorious serial killerin all of America wants to kill me, and that man is the brightest man I've ever known." Jabez stuffed her hands in her pockets, looking up to the sky. "He leaves such obvious clues, but no evidence. He's like a clever ghost that want me to find him personally."

"Will you find him?" John asked, curios.

"I sure hope so. I mean, I am now staying in his birth country."

John stopped. "But this man is trying to kill you! Why would you go back to where he grew up?"

"He wants me to come here. Plus, I need to catch him. I don't think I could go back to the states without him in cuffs or in a coffin."

The three walked in silence for a few moments when John asked, "Do we know who we are dealing with? Like do we really? I mean this man has already killed four people. He could be anywhere."

"This is his hunting ground." Sherlock indicated the streets with his hands. " Right here in the heart of the city. Now that we know his victims were abducted, that changes everything. Because all of his victims disappeared from busy streets, crowded places, but nobody saw them go. Think! Who do we trust, even though we don't know them? Who passes unnoticed wherever they go? Who hunts in the middle of a crowd?"

Jabez thought, "I would say someone recreational, but not so."

"Fine, ignore the fact that we can bloody die." john sighed. "I don't know either. You?"

Sherlock shook his head. "Not the slightest." He let out a huff. "Anyone want some dinner?"

They walked over to the pizzeria across the street and once they got situated, Sherlock looked out the window. "Don't take your eyes off of that area."

"yes captain sir." Jabez said mockingly. Sherlock turned to face her and she made a face. "You did say not to turn from it, did you not?"

Sherlock was about to answer when their food came. They all got situated, and John decided to pop the question.

"So Jabez, you, you did work back in the states." It was more of a statement rather than a question but Jabez still answered.

"Yes. It was quite fun."

"You get any arch enemies?"

"I have some on the police force back in New York." she looking over at Sherlock who just shrugged.

"People don't have arch enemies." John said.

"I'm sorry?" Sherlock asked, and Jabez tilted her head in confusion.

"In real life. People don't just have arch enemies."

"Well, what do they have?" asked Jabez.

"Friends? Or people they know, people they like, people they don't like… Girlfriends, boyfriends."

Jabez looked at Sherlock. "Seems a bit dull, or is it just me?" she asked.

"Quite dull." Sherlock said and John rolled his eyes.

"So you don't have a girlfriend?" John asked.

"No."

"What about a boyfriend?"

Jabez turned, "was that directed to me?"

"No it was to Sherlock." said John. "it's completely fine to have a boyfriend-"

"I know." Sherlock said, studying his food.

"So do you have a boyfriend?"

"No."

John turned to Jabez. "Please tell me you have at least some sense of how society works."

"Society is a living hell. I tend not to pay attention to it."

John sighed, "Of course. So you have no relationships."

Jabez thought back to her brother, but shook her head. "So both of you are detached. Like me. That's fine."

Jabez shook her head in disgust and Sherlock said, "John, um… I think you should know I consider myself married to my work and while I'm flattered by your interest, I'm really not looking for any…"

"No I wasn't looking. Just wondering."

"And um, John, I'm detached for a reason." Jabez said, "So I'd rather-"

"I wasn't asking you two to date!" he cried. "Can't I ask one question with out being over analytical?"

They were silent for the next few minutes, only the sound of their utensils echoed through the restaurant.

Finally, Sherlock set down his fork and loomed out the window. "Look across the street. Taxi. It's stopped. Nobody getting in, nobody getting out. Why a taxi? Oh, that's clever. Is it clever? Why is it clever?"

Jabez turned her body, and got out of the booth. "Give me a moment." she walked outside, and leaned against the glass. She watched the cab, looking down every so often. She was about to go back in, when the cab stared to drive off. She swung around, banging on the glass.

Sherlock and John ran outside. "I got the number!" John cried.

"No time!" Sherlock said, and closed his eyes. He mumbled some directions and ran off, Jabez following right behind him. They jumped over cars, pushed past people. "Where do you think he's heading?" Jabez asked.

"Don't talk, just run!" Sherlock said, and froze. He mumbled a few more directions.

"Must we always keep running?" John hustled, following behind. Jabez thought for a second, and then decided to take a short cut through an ally way. It had taken her a second but she knew exactly where they were heading.

When the three met up again, Jabez had jumped in front of the cab. It stopped and the three opened up the door.

"Police." Sherlock said, showing Lestrade's badge. "Open your suitcase up-"

Jabez put a hand on his arm. "I'd know a Californian anywhere. He just arrived this afternoon. Couldn't have done the murders."

"Murders? What? Why am I being pulled over by the police?" the man asked.

"Oh nothing. Uh, never mind." Sherlock said, leaning against the car.

"Uh, welcome to London." Jabez said and closed the door, and the three walked away from the cab.

"Just happened to be a cab to slow down." John sighed

"How could I be so stupid?" Sherlock said.

Jabez groaned. "Damn it. I was sure the man in the cab was the murderer."

"But not the murderer?" John said.

"Not the murderer. Different country."

"Good alibi." They turned to see the man talking to some men in uniform. "Sherlock, did you take that from Lestrade?" John asked, pointing to the badge.

"What? The badge? Yes. I pickpocket him when he is annoying." The man in the cab was pointing to them again. "You two have caught your breath?"

John nodded and Jabez gave a wicked smile. "Let's go. Last one back to the apartment has to buy the groceries." the three rushed off and back to the flat they went.

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**So that's the end of this chapter. Yes, Jabez does do drugs. The only reason why I made her do drugs is because in canon Sherlock, Sherlock does do drugs. Yes, in the series it is implied, but I still wanted at least some reference of drugs in here. Plus, it's important for later...**

**Review! I love hearing questions and comments about my story! Follow! Favorite! Stay tuned next week for another installment!**


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